Dark Harvest
by rosegirl220
Summary: Pete knew that the Vamp kids were conformist posers, especially Mike, but he never expected for them to do anything like this... (Collaboration with my dear friend drummergirllex on Tumblr, and is rated M for dark theme and language) (Contains Creek, Bratters, and hints of Pike and Meek in later chapters)
1. The Vampire Problem

"Pete, you didn't have to walk me home. You of all people know I have my switchblade on my person at all times"

"Yeah, but there's been a large number of child abductions in your neighborhood recently." Pete explained to the younger as he shortly paused to take a drag from the cigarette in his hand. "Me, Michael, and Henrietta have all agreed that one of us would have to be with you at all times after sundown. We just don't want our most non-conformist member being taken by any of those Britney and Justin wannabes."

"I know, but it's still demeaning." Firkle grumbled. He crossed his arms and gave a bit of a pout.

The two of them rounded a corner, but before any other conversation could be stirred up, they met an unpleasant sight.

"Ugh, Vamps." Pete sneered in disgust. He kept his voice low to avoid attracting their attention. The less he had to deal with them - and all conformists, really - the better.

"I know." Firkle agreed; eyeing on the two almost-translucent pale teens mere feet from them in repulsion. "I should have warned you; I live near Vamp kid territory. I see at least two of them a night on my walks home."

"Let's just go the long way then."

Liking the idea, the two turned and headed down the opposite street - fully intending to just get as far away from those poser vampires as possible. After about three and a half blocks, the two then made a left, but to their surprise, two more vamp kids were seen nonchalantly talking near a street-light.

"Damn, they're like roaches." Pete observed with a glare. He rolled his eyes at them, then muttered to Firkle, "Looks like we have to go through."

Neither of them really wanting to do it, Pete and Firkle then continued walking down the street, and soon enough, were calmly passing the two Vamps.

However, both noted something rather bizarre.

The contact-colored red eyes of both Vamps seemed to follow them as they went by, and even as they made their way down the street, both swore they heard barely noticeable footsteps that were trailing behind them - their suspicions being confirmed when both quickly glanced behind them to find the two posers they had passed earlier following them at a relatively close distance.

"...Pete, this is getting creepy." Firkle whispered to the other.

"You're telling me." Pete whispered back. "I mean, these posers have always been annoying, but this is a whole new level of weird; even for them."

Wanting to try and shake their pursuers, the boys then picked up pace only to find the people behind them matching it. The two then tried walking down random streets in an attempt to throw the following vamps off, but nothing seemed to shake the persistence pair. Although, it wasn't until Pete had them take a wrong turn into an abandoned alleyway that either of them acknowledged their vampiric stalkers.

"Would you posers just fuck off already?" Firkle exclaimed, whipping around and reaching for the switchblade in his backpack.

"My, my, what foul language." the vamp girl with silver hair said in a playful and taunting tone. "I suggest you learn to control your tongue Goth; our leader just hates potty mouths."

"Why the Hell would we care what fucking Vamp-Queer thinks of us anyway." Pete hissed - making a point to swear again just to spite the girl.

"Yeah, we're not scared of that faggy poser." Firkle added.

"You two just don't get it, do you?" the boy spoke up; mouth curling into a wide enough smirk where his fake fangs showed through. "Vampir has requested both of your presences. We were simply sent as the collectors."

"Okay, I don't know what sort of shit you've been smoking, but me and Firkle aren't going anywhere with _you conformists_."

"Is that so?" the girl asked with a Cheshire-Cat like smile. "Well, who says you get a choice?"

"I do." Pete said firmly. "Now I've had just about enough of this bullshit. Come on Firkle, let's-" The Goth then grabbed down to where Firkle's small hand hand should be, only air. He then looks down, and to his dismay finds that his young companion had vanished into thin air. "What the- Firkle?!"

"Now you see how serious we are." The boy spoke up.

"That's right, and since we have your little friend now, there's no reason not to comply with us," the girl continued. "Just come quietly and things won't have to get messy."

"What the fuck have you conformist vampire posers done with Firkle?!" Pete yelled at the two, not even giving any attention to their words. "I swear to god if you hurt a single hair on his head, I will hunt you down, and skin you both alive!"

"Such defiance," the boy said before tsking. "Looks like he's all yours, fellas."

Pete heard something rustle behind him, but just as he was about to whip around, two other Vamps that had been waiting in the shadows of the alley tackled him to the ground. The one that pinned down his upper body then took out a syringe of clear liquid, and stabbed it mercilessly into the Goth's neck.

The drug took effect in seconds, and Pete's whole world became consumed in a sea of blackness - the image of the four vampires looming over him the last thing he saw before going into a deep state of unconsciousness.


	2. Firkle

When Pete awoke again, he felt sharp pain in his wrists. His mind was groggy, but he felt as if he wasn't entirely supported, either.

He heard a faint little voice, calling his name through his fuzzy hearing and vision. It was familiar, and he instinctively made an attempt to stand at the call. "Pete!" it called. Was it the voice calling him to the afterlife, perhaps?

His muffled hearing and blurred vision cleared up. It was Firkle, not an angel of death. "Pete!" he cried. The terror in his voice was painful for Pete to hear. It cleared his senses as a rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins.

"Firkle! What the Hell?! Are you okay? What's going on?!"

Firkle was restraining tears. He was scared. Pete felt his blood boil. Those vampiric fuckers would get it. This was some elaborate prank wasn't it? "Vampir" was undoubtedly the second richest kid in town - after Token. He probably paid off those punks to kidnap them and scare the Hell out of them.

But they weren't alone.

From the corner of his gaze, further into the distance of whatever cave they had been dragged into, he spotted Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Butters Stotch and Bradley Whipple; all knocked out in their respective cages. He understood why the vampires would attack the Goths, but why them? Why these relatively normal kids?

Unless…

_Unless_ the vampires were the ones behind all the recent kidnappings in South Park.

"Pete… I'm scared. I-I just want to go home…"

A voice came from the darkness, familiar and malicious. "I'm sure you do." The familiar figure then stepped forward into the dim light of the room. His fake fangs glinted as his mouth twisted into a dark, psychotic grin.

"What the Hell are you doing with us, you fucking poser?" Pete demanded.

Mike's grin grew wider. "Being a vampire. We had to get creative."

Pete knew - Hell, _everyone _knew - that the vampire kids weren't real vampires. Their fangs were more fake than the average conformist poser. For them, if they wanted blood, they'd have to get it some other way.

"B… Bloodletting?" Pete muttered, feeling fear rise within him. He had heard of sick, twisted cultist groups performing these types of sacrifices where they'd drain the blood of helpless victims to drink it, but he never imagined actually being dragged to one. The other then looked to his little friend, handcuffed to the chair and his eyes went wide. "Release Firkle this instant, you fucker!"

Mike gave a chuckle. "Why would I do that? He was going to be the first. And _you_will watch."

The vampire-wanna-be walked up to the kindergartener and took two syringes from the table. They looked like they were once used for giving blood for donations. But this wasn't charitable. This was plain theft.

Pete wanted to stop him. Firkle was like his little brother. He - while easily a startling little child - never really did anything to deserve this. No one did. Except maybe _Mike._But unfortunately, Pete was restrained. He was tied to something cold and made of wires - maybe a metallic bed, minus the mattress. His wrists and ankles were restrained with handcuffs as well. He pulled at them, willing for them to break. Alas, it was futile. The Goth just wasn't strong enough.

In his fury, he shouted at the perpetrator. "YOU LAY A HAND ON HIM AND YOU WON'T LIVE TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY, YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Watch me."

Without another word, he pierced Firkle's flesh with the syringes, where he would bite if his fangs wouldn't just break off under the pressure. He set up the tubing and red liquid soon began pouring from the pipes, flowing into a glass. Firkle screamed from the pain, but then continued at the sight of so much of his own blood flowing free, into who knew where.

Mike then approached Pete, glass filled to the rim with the kindergartener's freshly drained blood in hand. He smiled. "Fear makes the blood flow faster. Adrenaline gets the heart pumping. Makes for less mess. Want a sip?"

"Fuck you! You got what you wanted. Get those things out of Firkle before he's sucked dry!"

"But Pete, that's the whole idea."

The Goth blinked in complete befuddlement, but then the other's true intention dawns on him. "No…..goddamnit, NO! I'M NOT LETTING YOU KILL FIRKLE, YOU BASTARD!"

"I'm afraid you're already too late to help him." Mike informed; a malicious smirk coming onto his face once more.

"Pete!" Firkle's voice sobbed out desperately, but also sounding weak. The older Goth then looked to the younger, and, to his horror, found that his small body was now paler than it had ever been. Tears continued to flow down his now paper-white cheeks, and his hazel-colored eyes were wide with panic. "P-Please….h-help….! I-I don't…..have m-much time….!"

"N-NO!" Pete screams out; once again doing his best to yank free of his restraints but to no avail. Tears threatened to run down Pete's face, but the Goth knew he couldn't show weakness, so he forced them back before shrieking, "GODDAMNIT MIKE, STOP THIS!"

"And miss out on watching you squirm? Never."

"FUCK YOU, YOU CONFORMIST!"

"Pete…" The small voice was almost missed.

The older Goth then directed his attention back to his friend, and saw that he had somehow paled even more in the split second he had his eye off him. Firkle's eyelids had lowered halfway, and it was obvious that he was battling to keep them open.

"...Pete….I….I'm sorry…"

And that was it.

The machine had finished it's job. The tubing of red liquid then sent the last of the kindergartener's blood to a waiting container, and then everything went silent. Pete stared mouth agape at his friends lifeless corpse for several minutes before he finds his voice.

"...you…..you killed him….my little brother…"

It was then that Pete did something he hadn't since his childhood.

He allowed the tears he had been fighting back to come rushing down without even an attempt to keep them hidden from his attacker.

"Aw, it's touching seeing you cry over your friend, Pete." MIke commented in a tone that was dripping with pure victory and tease. "Makes it seem like you actually have feelings."

Pete then felt his mouth curl into a sneer before saying in small voice, "...go fuck yourself."

"You know, I feel like I should punish you for swearing so much, but hey, I'm a nice guy." Mike said; the smile on his face giving away the fact the wheels in his twisted brain were turning. "So nice, in fact, that I'm going to give you the rest of my drink."

The Goth's eyes widened in terror, but it was too late for him to react.

The faux vampire then held the wine-glass of blood up to Pete's lips, and forcibly tilted the others head back. Pete cringed as the red, metallic-tasting liquid hit his tongue, and the more he was forced to ingest, the more his stomach began to churn. After what seemed like forever, the last drop in the glass finally passed into Pete's mouth, and Mike allowed his captive to go back to his original position.

"There. Didn't that taste wonderful?" Mike asked; already knowing the answer.

The other wanted to respond with a harsh remark, but his stomach churned uneasily, and he was almost positive he would puke if he even attempted to open his mouth.

"Now, all that's left to do is despos of the body before-"

"HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS CHRIST!"


	3. Tweek

The shrill voice made both males jump in surprise, and not more than two feet from them, a now awake Tweek was staring in horror at Firkle's lifeless body.

"DEAR GOD, Y-YOU KILLED HIM!" Tweek screeches. "Y-YOU KILLED HIM, A-AND NOW YOU'RE GONNA KILL ALL OF US! I-I'M PROBABLY NEXT! GAH! SOMEONE HELP!"

"Ugh, I told those idiots to use twice the medicine on this guy, but big shock, they didn't listen." Mike grumbles. "Look's like I'll be having to deal with him early."

If Pete wasn't too busy trying to keep himself from puking, he might have noticed that Craig was stirring from slumber due to his friends screaming and quickly becoming aware of the situation. Well… aware enough. But, alas, Pete _was _too busy. He failed at his main objective. That blood was _Firkle's _blood. Practically his little brother.

MIke rolled his eyes and turned to the twitchy young blonde. "Good God, _shut up! _You want some coffee?"

"N-NOT FROM YOU! THERE'S P-PROBABLY BLOOD IN IT!"

"But you _do _want coffee? Of course. When don't you?" Mike turned to face the darkness, calling to one of his vampiric cronies. "Hey! Bring me the coffee!"

Someone quickly came from the shadows and gave him a mug that appeared to have the Starbucks logo on it before retreating just as quickly. Pete never cared for the stuff. He preferred Tweak Bros. coffee. Less pretentious and conformist, albeit somewhat addicting. It wasn't even close to being on his mind. He saw the dark liquid and was reminded of Firkle's blood, which was still working its way out of his system.

"S… S-Starbucks?"

"Don't do it, Tweek!" Craig called out. He must be fully awake now. Pete closed his eyes and wondered briefly if he sounded half as desperate crying out for Firkle. Poor kindergartener never stood a chance. Tweek was older though. Stronger. More developed. He would suffer much longer.

Mike unscrewed the lid to the mug. Even in the dark, steam could be seen rising from the brew. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the liquid flying towards the blonde. It landed on him and seared his exposed skin and soaked into his clothing. He cried out in agony. While distracted by the burns, Mike dragged him to Firkle's dead body.

He kicked the corpse out of the chair and put Tweek in his place. "Tweek! No!" Craig cried out. It was only a matter of time before he, too, would be drained of blood. Rather than Pete, who was scared and wanted to defend the victim at hand, Craig was furious with the perpetrator. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, MAKOWSKI. YOU HEAR ME?! YOU ARE FUCKING _DEAD_."

"Pretty big words for someone in your position, Tucker." Mike said with a victorious smirk. He then turned his head toward the darkness before yelling, "Bloodrayne! Vladimir! Bring in a new container for the blood, and another glass!"

In seconds, figures appeared from the shadows, and quickly did as their dark master commanded, without hesitation. Pete only caught their appearance long enough to realize that it was the same boy and girl that had jumped him and Firkle in the alleyway earlier.

The two were undoubtedly doing this to get in good in with their leader; given the fact that the two were known straight-A students with a phobia of blood. They still were just as afraid as the captives. They feared that one day he'd run out and start killing _them _off. Pete could faintly see it in their eyes. Faintly.

As soon as the two left, Mike smirked. He glanced at Pete for only a second, his smirk growing revealing his bloodstained teeth. His gaze returned to the victim at hand. "Such pain you've endured… Your heart pounds faster already, thanks to the caffeine. If I cut you, would you bleed coffee? One way to find out."

The faux vampire titled Tweek's head just enough to expose the flesh on Tweeks neck that had been burned by the hot liquid, and jabs the syringes into the scarred, red skin without care. The twitchy blonde gives a intense yell of pain as he starts pulling against his restraints, and Craig was heard struggling harder to get free of his own entrapment - that is, if one could have heard anything other than his loud string of curses directed at Mike. Blood once again began to flow through the tubes, and once Mike had filled his glass got the brim, took a savoring sip of the red liquid - a smile coming onto his face.

"Just as I predicted; tastes just like a cappuccino. I might not get a caffeine buzz off that, per se, but..."

"YOU FUCKER! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO MY FRIEND!"

"Just your friend, huh?" Mike asked before giving a low chuckle. "Please, everyone in South Park knows the truth."

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

"Don't play coy," he sneered. The head vampire turned to the captive Goth. "Hey! Pete! Weren't Tweek and Craig obvious?"

Pete flinched at the sound of his name being called, shivering from throwing up Firkle's blood. He strengthened his resolve long enough to sneer at his captor. It took him a few breaths to get it out though, being out of air. "I will not... partake... in any of this... _poser bullshit_, Vamp-Queer."

"Don't be pretentious. You saw how they'd avoid talking to each other to avoid attracting attention." He returned his attention to the hooded child, pacing towards him with a menacing grin on his pale face. "Hell, you guys didn't even _look_at one another. Some people were concerned you two weren't friends anymore. But on the _rare_chance you did meet gazes… you'd see a spark. Love."

"Poetic," Pete sneered.

Despite the snark, Craig was starting to blush a little. However, the dire situation made him quickly forget his feelings towards the soon-to-be-deceased, tweaked out, Tweek. He flipped of his captor.

Mike rolled his eyes. He spoke in a mocking tone, belittling, even. "Oh, I'm _so_offended by your cruel, cruel gesture, Tucker!" He laughed at his sarcasm. "Of course, no matter how many times you flip me off, you can't hide the truth." The fake vampire then paused to think, and after a few seconds, the growing of his vicious smirk signaled that he had come up with another twisted idea. "Although...since you say Tweek here is merely your friend; you won't have a problem with me doing this."

Without another word, Mike suddenly took of Tweek's chin to keep his head in place, and captures the blonde in a forceful, crushing kiss.

Tweek's dark-brown eyes seen to widen to the size of dinner plates, and pull away from the other - his efforts being met with Mike tightening his grip and slight pain due to the syringes in his neck. Meanwhile, Craig's face reddened in rage as their kidnapper continued to kiss the blonde, and Pete just stared at the scene in disgusted surprise.

"You sick, poser bastard…" Pete whispered. What scared him more, however, was the fact Mike - while still kissing Tweek - met his gaze and gave a wink. Pete - to say the least - did _not _like the implications.

"YOU LET GO OF HIM YOU SADISTIC FUCK!" Craig shouted. Even from where Pete was, he could tell it soon wouldn't matter what their kidnapper did with the twitching blonde; the others skin already paling two shades lighter than it had been.

Tweek was twitching as much as he could without inflicting further pain. His jerky movements didn't stop the vampire-wanna-be, though. Tweek's eyes met Craig's. Pete watched as he tried to pull away from his torturer, trying to tell Craig something before he bled out. Every time, Mike would shut him back up. "Craig, Pete, I… I'm… I'm s… I'M SORRY!"

"Don't apologize, Tweek. It's not your fault. None of us deserve this," Pete said with a glare towards the head vampire.

"I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL, MOTHERFUCKER!"

Mike gave a smile, finally leaving Tweek. "That's the idea," he said with a dark smirk on his translucently-pale face. The hooded boy then glared at him, but it quickly melted into an expression of worry when he sees Tweek slumped over in the chair.

"Tweek… Tweek, say something!" Craig cried, "Please!"

It was too late, though. Tweek already bled out.


	4. Burning Bridges

The hooded child was holding back tears. He didn't believe it and kept calling for him. "Tweek! _Tweek!_"

Pete's eyes were focused on the corpse. Many questions had come up since the initial abduction. Why were the vampires kidnapping kids, and why were _they _targeted? Now, the only question on his mind was along the lines of "Why is Mike so fucking insane?" this time around.

"What the fuck did _Tweek _of all people do to deserve that?" Craig demanded, restraining sobs and shaking in his own confinement - a set up similar to Pete's.

Mike laughed. "Who said any of you deserved this? I'm not going after people because I think they earned this, per se."

"Then _why?!_"

Mike didn't answer. He removed Tweek's corpse from the chair before tossing it to land next to Firkle's corpse, and called for his minions to take it.

Pete had a question of his own. He hoped that someday he could at least hold a funeral for Firkle with the remaining Goths - assuming they weren't held captive there, too. However, he didn't want to ask it, partially because he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"What… are you doing with the bodies?"

"I'm sure _you'd _like to know…" he murmured in a low, threatening voice. He paced towards him. "Something doesn't seem to be agreeing with you, Pete. Is your stomach upset?"

"_You _don't agree with me. Now stop being the smug little bastard you are, and tell me, dammit!"

Mike tilted his head to one side. "I need every last drop of blood I can get…" He paced towards Craig and Pete both. "Perhaps you'd like a demonstration of corpse disposal."

Craig didn't speak out of spite towards the vampire. Pete wished he could afford to do the same. He felt - at the very least - he should try to stall Mike for as long as he could with these ritualistic killings. He didn't even want to know how many already fell before him. Just what happened that night was too much for the small town of South Park. If they ever found out…

"Just an explanation would be nice. Don't show us."

"But what's the _fun _of that?" Mike asked. He turned to the shadows of the room. "Bloodrayne! Bring Firkle back!"

The girl obeyed without hesitation and retreated as quickly as she arrived. Pete almost caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes. Maybe not all the vampires were fucking psychotic. He'd make a point to ask her about it if Mike ever left the room - which was highly unlikely.

He took Firkle's switchblade off of him and jabbed it into his chest. "As I said, I need every drop of blood I can get. Despite dying of blood loss, some residual blood stays within the heart."

Pete felt sick all over again as he used the knife to expose the dead kindergartener's organs. He held back the rising bile. It tasted like blood. Was it _still _in his system?! Or could it have been his own blood?

With a couple neat slices and a strong tug, the organ was cut free from it's owner, held in Mike's left hand. "The easiest way I find to remove the blood is to set the heart on puree in a blender."

Craig was gagging too, now. If the two of them lived, they would never be able to drink smoothies again.

"It tastes about the same, being drenched in the stuff. Obviously it has a bit more viscosity to it. Like V8. This one's a bit small. I guess that's to be expected from such a small child." He called for his other lackey for assistance. "Vladimir! The blender!"

Without words, he appeared, delivered a bloodied blender from Hell, and left. Pete couldn't see any emotion at all in his eyes. He figured it would be best to avoid him. He'd remember Bloodrayne, though.

Mike dropped Firkle's heart into the blender unceremoniously and hit a button. The organ was liquefied in seconds and poured into a wine bottle. He sat it on a table nearby. "But there's still the mess of the body," he mentioned. "Luckily, I can show you that, too. Bring Tweek back, too."

Craig seemed to be attempting to channel his anger into strength, hoping to break the cuffs. They must have been the same kind the police use, though, as no matter how hard he pulled because of his anger at Mike, they remained in place, holding Craig against his will.

He repeated the process of removing the heart and turning it into the smoothie from the deepest pits of Hell. Craig was still visibly angered - literally shaking with rage - but a tear still rolled down his face as it happened.

Mike picked up a can with no label and poured the liquid onto the deceased. To Pete, it smelled flammable. Like lighter fluid. His theory was proven unfortunately correct when he pulled a lighter - Firkle's lighter - from his pocket.

Pete saw what was going to happen and shouted out, "No! Stop!"

But it was too late.

The flame of Firkle's lighter made contact with the lighter fluid the bodies had been doused in, and in seconds, the corpses were set aflame. A thick, black smoke soon spread throughout the small room, and the sickening smell of burning flesh came with it.

"NO!" Craig screams out. "TWEEK! GODDAMNIT NO!"

The other continued like this for the longest time; those few words all that he seemed to be able to say. Pete just sat there quietly. He was just so dumbstruck by what had just occurred that he just couldn't process it all. First he had to endure the sight of poor Firkle's heart removed by Mike's hands, said organ being ground into a fine red liquid, and now, having a front row seat as the kindergartners body burned mere feet from him.

And what made it even worse for the Goth is that he couldn't do anything about it. Just thinking about that fact caused a pain to settle in his heart, but he didn't want to show anymore weakness in front of Mike than he already had. So, Pete just shoved back his emotions, and stared blankly ahead at the rising flames.

Eventually, Craig's screams died down due to the hooded boy's voice beginning to give out - his cold facade finally shattered - and not too long after, the fire incinerating their friends died down as well. Nothing but ashes and any scraps of metal they had on their person remained.


	5. Bradley

"Well, that's that." Mike said in a gloating tone. He was full of himself and very self-satisfied at the moment. Pete was praying - if there was even a god who would answer him, now - that he would be the one to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

It was then that a rather loud, careless yawn was heard. All three's heads then turn to see that the other blonde Mike had dragged into this hell-hole was stirring from his forced rest.

"Mmm….mom….mom, what time is it?"

Butters eyes opened all the way, and once he realizes he's not at his home nor in his bed, blinks in surprise.

"W-Where the heck am I? And w-what is that awful smell?"

"Well good morning, Trauter." Mike smirked. He silently stalked over to where Butters was being held, and gets right in the others face. "Remember me?"

"...Vladimir?" Butters asked, sounding unsure. It had been a while since his escapade with the vampires

Mike sneered before hissing, "No, you ignorant twit! I'm Vampir! You know, the leader of the South Park Vampire Society. A club that, you did join, but betrayed seconds later by helping the Goths burn down the Hot Topic at the mall!"

"Oh..._Oh_! I remember now!" Butters said. He then gave an innocent smile before saying, "How've ya been?"

"...um….that's….none of your concern." Mike said, clearly caught off guard by the blonde's niceness. "You should be concerned what's going to happen to you!"

"Really? What's gonna happen?"

"Oh, it'll be a surprise."

"A surprise?!" Butters beamed. "Oh boy! I love surprises!"

"...okay, obviously you're not getting this." Mike says in irritation. "Let me put it in the simplest terms I can: I. _Kidnapped. _You. Alright?! I'm going to end your pathetic excuse for what you call a life, and you'll never be leaving here again! Period, end of sentence!"

"Aww, now why would you go and do that?" Butters asked in almost disappointed tone. "I always thought you were a good egg, Mike, and hurtin' people doesn't sound like you. Is this some sort of ploy for attention? You know you can always talk to me. Heck, I'll even hug ya if that's what it takes to make you feel better."

Mike then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers before sighing out, "Just….just shut up, Butters. I hate you so goddamn much right now, just...goddamnit."

"...y-you shouldn't take the lords name in vain."

The small voice made the fake vampire look up once more, and he sees that, in the cage right next to Butters, his dirty-blonde friend Bradley that had stirred from his slumber as well - being too scared to speak until the head vampire said the slur about God.

"What's it to you, pest?!" Mike growls.

Bradley seemed to shrink a little at this and looks down submissively before whispering out, "I-I'm just….v-very religious is all…."

"Oh _really_." Mike said, a smirk coming onto his face as the wheels in his mind began turning with evil ideas once more. "Well, it's funny you should be defending God; since His hatred for you is why He had me send you here."

"W-What?!" Bradley asks as an expression of disbelief comes onto his face.

"Oh yeah, God's absolutely _furious _with you." Mike smirked, milking this angle for all it was worth. "He told me Himself that He was sick of you when He asked me to bring you here, and that He wanted you to die so your soul could be dragged to Hell where it belongs."

"O-Oh no." Bradley whispers out in complete dismay. "...I….I failed Him. I-I tried to change so I wouldn't burn, b-but I just fueled his anger!"

"Hey! Don't go around saying things like that!" Butters said, glaring at Mike. "There is nothing wrong with Bradley, and god loves him just like he loves everyone else! Even if he is bi-curious!"

"Bi-curious?" Mike asked before letting out an insane-sounding laughter. "No wonder God hates you! No sense in caring about someone who can't make up their mind which sex they'd rather fuck!"

"You're one to talk, you fucking poser." Pete hissed.

The head vampire then shot the Goth a dark glare to be quiet, and then turns back to Bradley with a malicious smirk. "Face it kid; your fate was sealed from the day you were born. I just feel sorry for the poor damned souls in hell that'll have to put up with you."

"Stop it!" Butters demanded in an uncharacteristically angry voice. "Bradley is the nicest person I've ever met! It's because of people like you who keep saying he's going to burn in Hell that he's so terrified of being himself! Just leave him alone!"

Mike smirks at the outburst, and suddenly, finally knowing how to torture Butters.

"Oh, I will...once I get what I want from him."

Without further explanation, the older male grabbed Bradley by his curly dirty-blonde hair and dragged the shaking male over to the seat where his previous victims had been placed.

"Bloodrayne! Vladimir! You know the drill!" Mike yells.

From the shadows, his lackeys made themselves seen once more, and leave the second their task is complete. On their exit, Mike smirks, and leans in nose-to-nose with Bradley.

"...p-please….l-let me go." The younger said, his terror almost keeping him silent.

"But then I'd be defying God just like you." Mike responds in a darkly playful tone. "Although, since I find you do pathetic, let me give you something that'll help in Hell."

The head vampire then pulls out the switchblade he'd swiped from Firkle's body before it was burned, and harshly turns Bradley's head to side. Without even hesitating, he drives the knife into the others neck, and the dirty-blonde howls in pain.

"Bradley!" Butters screamed in horror. Tears welled in his eyes and soon began to fall.

Mike ignored the blondes cries, and dragged the knife slowly and painfully down Bradley's neck in a straight line. Once he reached the junction where the neck as shoulder met; he then removed the knife only to stab it in again near the top of the line. He then brings it straight across, and then removes it for good; making a perfect cross on the side of Bradley's neck.

"There, now even demons will know you worshiped God and still failed to satisfy Him."

Pete snarled from his entrapment. "I think we all know _you're_the demon here." He almost expected Craig to back him up, but the hooded child wasn't saying anything. Fine. He'd do the verbal rebuttal on Butters's behalf. He was pretty cool for a conformist, after all. He helped them burn down a Hot Topic, at least.

"Like you're any better. Christianity is the most conformist of all the religions, don't you agree?" Mike asked, a bored look on his face. "About a third of the world believes in it. That's a lot of people."

Pete growled back, "Doesn't mean I don't know a devil when I see one."

Mike just rolled his eyes at the comment, and focused once again on Bradley. He then grabbed ahold of the syringes before jabbing them harshly into the fresh cut on the boys neck. The dirty blonde cries out in pain once more, and Butters struggled against his restraints with all his might.

"Stop it!" The blonde screamed out. "You're hurting him!"

"He had it coming. If not me, someone else was going to inflict pain on him. You can interpret it as an act of God or the result of Karma or bad luck or whatever, but it was going to happen. I just beat everyone else to it," Mike replied, examining the blood. There wouldn't be as much from Bradley because of the cross in his neck, but there would still be just a little under a gallon of blood.

Pete saw that Butters was very upset by it all, but he didn't expect the kid to start praying for Bradley.

"God, please don't take Bradley yet! I know that You aren't really angry with him. Mike's lyin'! He don't deserve the things happenin' to him. If You are mad, please forgive him! He didn't deserve any of this!" he whispered, closing his eyes and folding his hands tightly.

It was all for naught though. Soon, Bradley too, was dead. The last thing he said would be unknown, garbled by blood he was coughing up as a result of the crucifix on his neck.

Butters cried in silence, tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away, but the restraints on his wrists made it difficult. "W-Why?" he choked out.

"Seems to be the question of the night…" Mike muttered. Louder, clearer, he replied to the question they all were thinking. "You keep asking why? Here's why. I need blood. I'm a sadistic fuck and want to watch how you react to it. If I'm going to drain you all, I might as well get a kick out of it."

"That… _That's _why?" Butters asked.

"Maybe. That's what you believe isn't it?"

The blonde's gaze then drifted to the floor; the answering being that, yes, he now did think that Mike was just a sociopath. How else could one explain why he was kidnapping his peers and killing them so brutally, only to follow up by drinking their blood? Psychotic was the best word for it, for Butters, Craig, and Pete alike.

Mike smiled, his fake fangs glinting in the little light that was present. "That's enough of that, though. Who wants to go next?"


	6. Bloodrayne

_Who wants to go next?_

The question seemed to hang in the air for several minutes with a response.

Pete cast a quick glance at the other hostages. Craig and Butters showed no sign that they even acknowledged his question. Craig was focused at a single spot on the ground, completely numb to the world. Butters, however, was the complete opposite; his eyes darting every which way around the room in a nervous fashion. The Goth knew he was probably looking for some method of escape, but alas, he'd find none.

"Master!"

The sudden voice of Mike's male minion, Vladimir, caused the head vampire to look away from his captives in clear annoyance.

"What is it?" Mike hissed. "If you hadn't noticed; I'm kind of busy at the moment."

It was then that the pale boy emerged from the shadows, and as he stepped further into the dim light, Bloodrayne was dragged into the room as well.

"I found this traitor trying to sneak in a phone call while you were busy." Vladimir explained; giving the now shaking girl by his side a harsh glare before continuing. "She was calling the police, m'lord. Trying stop you from getting the proper sacrifices you deserve."

"Mike, please, stop this madness!" Bloodrayne suddenly begged; tears welling up in her eyes. "I-I don't wanna be apart of this anymore! I was okay with just bringing random strangers here, but…now that I know what you do to them…..I-I'll never look at you the same way again!"

"You seem to forget your position, Bloodrayne." Mike hissed; marching over to the silver-haired girl and towering over her threateningly. "You willingly joined the society, and as a member, you agreed to follow my every word without question. That means you keep your mouth shut, eyes down, and do your job with a smile!"

"You're a monster!"

The head vampire then suddenly reached back, and without warning, struck the pale girl in front of him across the face with the back of his hand. The sharp smack that followed definitely had raged fueled behind it, and even Pete cringed at the noise.

"I am your master, slave! And you shall address me as such!" Mike screeches.

"Y-You're going to get in a lot of trouble for this when I tell the police what you've been doing." Bloodrayne sniffled out quietly; tears rolling down her face, and causing her mascara to run slightly. "T-They'll send you to jail for life."

"Oh, is that what you think?" Mike asked; his malicious smirk making it's way back onto his pale features. "Well, who's going to tell them when the only one defiant enough to speak is silenced?"

"W-What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was going to kill Butters next. Maybe I should deal with you first," he muttered, glaring intensely at the traitor to his schemes. His eyes widened and a frightening smile crept onto his face. "Actually… Vladimir, deal with disposing of Bradley's body. I want to make sure this is personal." Vladimir nods, and unhooks the dirty blondes body from the chair before dragging it off into the darkness. Once he was gone, Mike then grabs Bloodrayne by her jacket collar, and brings her to eye level with him. "Alright you traitor, before I kill you, I wanna know one thing: What made you think you could get away with his in the first place?!"

"I-I don't know…" Bloodrayne sniffled out. "But I had to try… for him."

"Who?" Mike demanded. "Bradley? Bastard's dead now."

"No…not him..."

"Tweek? Firkle?" Mike continued guessing in a bland tone.

The silver haired girl then looks down in a guilty manner before answering in a barely audible voice, "I-I did it for… For Pete."

The Goth and the vampire were both shocked by the revelation. "What?!" they exclaimed together; eyes widening in surprise.

Bloodrayne cringed at this but then explains, "I-I've just….had a crush on him ever since I was in first grade. H-He's the reason I joined the South Park Vampire Society in the first place...s-so maybe he'd finally notice me. To be honest...I-I'm not even interested in vampires. I think they're cliche, a-and that your obsession with them is….unhealthy."

Mike became enraged by her explanation, and in a fit of rage, shoved the poor girl to the ground before she could say another word. She landed in a puddle of one of the previous victims blood, and the former minion quickly tried to stand in an effort to try and get away from the psycho in front of her. Of course, before she even made it close to being on her feet, Mike withdrew Firkle's switchblade - which angered Pete just to see in the others possession - from his back pocket, and began slashing at the defenseless girl in a blind, furious lashing. Bloodrayne screamed in pain and fear alike.

As stoic as Craig had become, even he clenched his eyes shut at the sight. Poor Butters couldn't keep them tight enough; tears continuing to roll down his eyes as he had to endure the girl's screams for help with the knowledge he couldn't go to her aid. Pete, however, was transfixed on the sight. She - a wannabe vampire servant of the bastard responsible for killing off Firkle, Tweek, Bradley and who knows how many others that had died previous to them - tried valiantly to stop her corrupt leader, because she liked him. Him. A Goth kid. The vamp clique's mortal enemies. It was all a lot to process.

"How dare you betray me!" Mike shouted. "You filthy bitch!"

Her terrified screaming stopped long before her attacker stopped swinging the blade, and soon, everything was silent.


	7. Butters and Craig

After the savage beating was finally over; Bloodrayne's corpse was covered in cuts, bruises, and blood soaked her once silver hair - giving it an almost cherry-like color. Meanwhile, the three captives that had been forced to watch this brutal killing all silently mourned the loss of the seemingly sane vamp girl, including Pete, and it wasn't long after her life was ended that Mike's male minion, who was covered in Bradley's blood, comes back into the room once more.

"Vladimir!" Mike yelled when he saw the others form re-enter the room, covered in blood that proved a waste to him. "Did her call go through?"

"No, sir. I saw her on her phone, waiting for it to pick up. I hung up before someone answered, but I imagine they'll track it. I suggest that whatever you do with these three needs to be done soon," he replied obediently.

"Then take care of her body however you want." Mike ordered, kicking the girl's corpse harshly. "Burn her out back, cut her into little pieces, defile it in any sick manner you can think of; I don't care. Just get rid of her remains. I need to speed things along here before people show up asking questions."

Vladimir nods before dragging Bloodrayne's body into the darkness, and as soon as he left, the head vampire turns his attention to his last three captives. The sociopath then walked towards the blonde child and put his hands on either side of his head.

"W-What are you doing?!" Butters asks in pure terror.

"Lucky you," The other murmured, ignoring the blonde's question. "It seems you get a swift, painless death."

Before Butters could even reply, Mike forcibly twisted his head to one side. A sickening crunch echoed throughout the room. Pete and Craig both flinched at the sound and stared in horror at the blonde's limp, lifeless form.

"You got off easy, traitor." Mike muttered. He then unlatched Butters from his restraints, and lets the blonde's lifeless body drop to the ground before turning to his last two victims. "Alright, which one of you is next?" The Goth stayed quiet, assuming Craig was going to do the same, but to his greatest surprise, he heard the others voice suddenly speak up.

"I'll go."

"WHAT?!" Pete exclaimed; shocked at the hooded boys words.

"I said I volunteer to go next." Craig clarified; eyes locked on the ground. "I've been thinking about this ever since Tweek died, and...I just can't take any more of this bullshit, dude. My best friend is dead, and not coming back. I have nothing else to live for." The blue eyed boy then looks up at Mike, and gives him a cold, emotionless stare. "You want my blood, you sick fuck? Then come and get it. I won't even fight you."

A devilish smirk came to the faux vampire's face.

"So be it."

The psychotic, wannabe vampire stalked over to Craig, and released him from his restraints. And, just as the other had said, he didn't struggle nor even say a word as Mike dragged him over to the chair. Mike then straps the other in, and smirks down victoriously at the trapped raven-haired boy before him.

"I must say, I'm a little disappointed in you, Tucker." Mike teased. "No cursing, struggling, or even a last minute attempt to get free. You're making this very boring for me."

"Just kill me already." Craig demanded in a monotone voice. "I'm sick of this place."

Mike smirked and gave an indifferent shrug before getting the double syringes. He then jabs it into the stoic boys neck, and he seemed to give a momentary wince of pain before his face goes back to it's emotionless, almost bored expression. His blood then began to travel through the tubes, and into the waiting container.

In seconds, Craig's body had paled considerably, and his eyes were beginning to close.

"Won't be long now." Mike observed with a dark smile. "Any last words, Tucker?"

"Yeah...but not to you." Craig said, a momentary flash of defiance coming into his eyes. He then looks over to Pete before saying, "Hey...Pete, was it? You...have to promise me something."

The Goth nodded before saying, "Anything."

"Promise that...if you somehow kill Mike and escape this place….you won't let my sister find out Tweek and I died." Craig struggled to get out. "Tell her...I ran off with him to somewhere we wouldn't be judged for our sexuality. She'll like that. And...apologize to Token and Clyde. Say….I'm sorry I couldn't save us."

"Of course."

Craig let his eyes close before saying, "Then I can leave this world in peace...thanks to you." He added something. "Oh… and Mike?"

"Yes?"

He struggled to turn his wrist, but he slowly - _painfully _slowly - managed to raise his middle finger one last time.

And that was it.

The hooded boy went quiet, and the last of his blood was pumped through the tubes. Pete felt tears once again well up in his eyes, but this time, he didn't fight them back.


	8. The Dakest Trade

Pete felt a certain level of respect for Craig after everything, and it just seemed right to let tears flow at his death.

"Finally, he's dead." Mike said with a scoff. "It took too long for my tastes. Besides, now I finally have you all to myself."

Pete sneered before hissing out, "Shut up, you conformist."

The head vampire smirked maliciously at the others comment, but stays quiet as he strolled over to his Gothic captive.

"Oh Pete...you have no idea how long I've waited to have you at my mercy like this." Mike said in a dominating tone. "But I couldn't just have my lackeys bring you here. No. I needed to get this whole process perfect before I even dreamed of sending my minions after you. Now I have, and the moment I've been waiting for ever since I started this operation is here."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Pete hissed, angry and upset, somewhat queasy and _very _spiteful. "Is this _really _about the rivalry?! Then why drag _them _into it?"

He gave a low, dark chuckle as his lips twisted into a evil grin. "No. This was about _you._"

Pete blinked in honest shock at the answer. "...me?"

"Yes, Pete, all of this is for you." Mike explained with a prideful smirk that showed off his still blood-soaked fake fangs. "From day one this whole thing has always been about you."

"Then...why bring all those others into this?" Pete asked, his voice going slightly shrill with anger and confusion. "Why kill all these innocent kids just to get to me?!"

"I think of it more as mere sacrifices to get to my goal." Like said smugly. "And I dragged them here because, like I said, I wanted the process to be perfect."

"Why _me?_" Pete asked, a puzzled look on his pale face. "If it's a strategical thing, I'm hardly the Goths' leader. It just… doesn't make sense!"

Mike rolled his eyes. "Are you _that _oblivious, Pete? I figured it'd become clear with that gesture I gave you when I was kissing that hyperactive blonde earlier."

When Pete finally put the clues together, his eyes widened in a mix of horror and disgust. "You... Y-You killed all, these people because you... _love_me?!"

"Look who finally joined the program." Mike said with a smirk that, once again, revealed his blood-soaked fakes. "And I see it more as a…obsession. You see, when I first discovered I liked you, it started out as a pretty standard attraction. Always thinking about you, wanting you to be by my side at night, etc. But then my thoughts started getting a little...darker. I went from wanting to kiss you to having the urge to drain your blood like a real vampire almost overnight. It was a bit frightening to me at first, but soon I embraced the darkness that was beginning to grow inside of me, and went to work researching. I eventually came across this article on bloodletting, and hours of follow up investigating later, the perfect evil plan began twisting itself in my mind. The rest, well...I'm gonna let your imagination fill in the gaps."

"You...you sick poser _bastard_." Pete hissed out. "One of my best friends is _dead _because of you, and you tell me your only motivation for doing it was because _you're obsessed with me_?! You sick, sadistic _fuck_! I hope you burn in the deepest pits of!"

"Oh, your little riot act is amusing Pete, but I can see through your little facade." Mike chuckled out in a taunting tone. "I can see it in your eyes. You really hate yourself right now. Your pissed because, deep down, you wish it would have just been you I killed. But I won't kill _you_, my love_._Oh no, that'd be too simple. Every other brat in South Park , however, will die. Including the other Goths. And the look on your face when someone close to you _slowly,_ painfully slips away is simply _delicious_. I will cherish the memory of it forever."

"No...no, you can't kill them" Pete whispered out, tears beginning to form in his eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time that night. "Not Henrietta and Michael...y-you can't take them away too!"

"Oh, but I can, and I will." Mike smirked. "And I'll even make sure to keep you alive just long enough for you to see their deaths before your own. Although...if you really want to keep them safe and ensure no harm comes their way; I'll offer you a little trade."

"...A-A trade?"

"That's what I said." Mike said; his smirk growing a bit wider. "Seeing as how that traitor left a position open in the society, here's my offer: You become my personal slave until the day you die, and in exchange, I'll let you and the two remaining friends you have live."

Pete blinked in surprise.

Sure, he had guessed when Mike said he was offering a trade slavery would have to be part of the package, but..he didn't think he'd put Michael and Henrietta's life on the line like they were merely prizes to be won at a carnival. The Goth despised Mike for the fact he put so many innocent people through this torture, but...just the mere idea he could keep his two other friends from the same fate made him feel like there was still some sort of hope.

"...f-fine you twisted bastard...if Henrietta and Michael can be saved; I have no choice. " Pete muttered through clenched teeth. "I accept your trade. But I swear on everything I believe, if you so much as think about doing this to them; I'll turn on you so fast your head will spin."

"Threaten all you want, my new minion, but unless you want the blood of the only two people on this earth who tolerate you enough to be your friend on your hands, you'll learn to keep your mouth shut." Mike smirked; undoing the restraints that bound Pete the metallic bed. The Goth then caught a glimpse at Craig's lifeless body as he rubbed his sore wrists, and a sudden nauseating thought comes to his mind: What if Mike made him extract his heart, and puree it in the bloody blender? He couldn't possibly stomach such a disgusting act.

The Goth tried to keep his mouth shut, but he found himself asking the question that plagued his mind before he could stop himself.

"W...What do you plan on doing with his body?"

"Oh, I'll have Vladimir finish up here." Mike explained; a sense of relief coming over Pete at the knowledge he wasn't going to be forced to harvest the hooded boys heart like some sort of twisted freak. "You and I, however, will be leaving immediately. I have to get you in the proper outfit and makeup if you are going to be one of my children of darkness by next school day. And besides, there's much more important matters _you'll _be attending to tonight."

The Goth felt his stomach churn in disgust at the implications of the other's words, but pushed out the thoughts of what the other would have him do; knowing that whatever was coming was to protect his friends. Hopefully. He held onto the idea that Mike wouldn't go back on his word like it was the only thing keeping him together.

And in reality, it would be the only thought that kept him sane that night. If only just.

_~Fin~_

* * *

Ending Notes: This is the final chapter in this story. However, me and my collaborator are making a sequel, but it won't be up for awhile Anyway, hope you enjoyed this story, and if you'd like a link to the next one when it comes out, feel free to message me at any time.


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